Healing the Betrayed Heart
by Muggle Jane
Summary: Hermione finds herself moving into Shell Cottage, whether she wants to or not. Oneshot, written for the HPFC Written in Stone Challenge


**A/N: Characters not mine! Of course. Written for the Written in Stone Challenge from HPFC. "Diopside is a stone that heals the betrayed heart. It's base is of plain stone, which helps to restore a sense of normalcy, and from that grows the stunning green gem that bridges our ability to feel love and to trust again. It's associated with Virgo, the heart chakra, and the numbers 8 and 9."**

I was sitting at the kitchen table with my cup of coffee, reading through the Daily Prophet when Molly came in, frowning at me in concern. I looked up at her, then immediately checked the front of my dressing gown for stains or crumbs.

She sat down at the table with me, and just sat for a moment, looking at me with her warm brown eyes. "Isn't time you moved out, dear?"

I choked on my coffee. I was the last of "the kids" still living at The Burrow. Ginny and Harry were married and living at 12 Grimmauld Place. Ron had moved out when he'd discovered that girls tended not to be impressed when you took them back to your place and your mother served them pancakes the next morning with a side of judgment.

"It's not that we don't love you, dear," she rushed on as I spluttered and tried to regain my breath. "Or that we don't want you here. But don't you, well, don't you want a chance to be able to get out and do all those crazy things you young people do?"

I took a deep breath, coughed a little, and wiped my mouth on the sleeve of my blue dressing gown. "I can start looking for a flat this weekend." It hurt a little, to be honest. Molly and Arthur were the closest thing I had to parents now, ever since I'd had to... Well, since I'd had to do what I'd done to mine. There was no guarantee of coming back from that, not without an incredible amount of pain and possible insanity. It hadn't been worth the risk.

She sighed, pressing her lips together. "It's not like that, dear, but... Well, you spend your Friday nights here with us and a book. You're young, you're beautiful, and I'm afraid you're wasting it all on us when you should be out with other young people."

"Oh." There was nothing to say to that. Ginny and Ron had gone clubbing a lot, Ron still did, but the lights and the noise were usually too much for me. I _liked_ spending my Friday evenings curled up on a couch with a book, but Molly never took no for an answer.

"Why don't you move out to Shell Cottage?"

I choked on my coffee for a second time. I put the mug very firmly on the table, I wasn't going to have another drink until she was finished. "Ex-Excuse me?" I coughed out.

"Shell Cottage, dear. Bill's been saying how lonely it is there now, and it would save you the trouble of trying to find a flat."

Fleur had... Well, I wasn't exactly sure what had happened- and I was very firmly of the opinion that it was none of my business- but at the end of it, she'd moved back to France and now Bill was living alone in Shell Cottage. And apparently I was going to be his housemate. It wasn't as though I really had a choice. Molly had made up her mind.

Taking my silence for agreement, she patted my hand. "Drink a little slower, dear, you won't choke so much. I'll floo him and let him know you'll move in on Saturday." She stood and moved out of the kitchen, presumably to floo her eldest son, leaving me sitting at the table in a state of bemusement.

I took the rest of my coffee to the sink and dumped it down the drain before heading upstairs to get ready for work. A quick shower, a neat pencil skirt and blouse and my Ministry robes later, and I was no nearer to understanding exactly what had taken place that morning. Apparently I was going to be spending some time after work packing.

* * *

It wasn't like it took me long to pack. Spending the better part of a year traveling all over the countryside with my two best friends and one bag with an Undetectable Extension Charm had rid me of the desire to accumulate a lot of possessions. I still had some keepsakes, of course, and all of my clothes, but everything fit into two suitcases. Except the books. The books fit in a separate trunk, but books don't count because a woman has got to have a decent library.

After I hugged Arthur at the door, Molly came and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Just apparate along, dear, he's expecting you." She practically pushed me to where my trunk was waiting at the boundaries of the Weasley's front garden. I went, gathered all my things to me, and then I felt the familiar twisting and compacting and then I was standing in the tiny garden at the front of Shell Cottage.

The front door opened and out came the tallest of the Weasley children, a slightly bemused expression on his face. "Morning, Hermione."

"Morning, Bill," I replied, feeling just a little awkward. "Can you give me a hand with the trunk?" He started toward me and I shook my head. "Don't pick it up, it's full of books."

He laughed then, and went inside for just a moment before coming out with his wand. I hadn't missed the note of melancholy in his laughter. "Why am I not surprised?" he asked, levitating it behind me and having it follow along after me as I went into the house.

I was struck immediately by how subdued the little cottage was. The last time I had been there, it had been full of life. Now it seemed to be a pale shadow of itself, weighed by heavy emotions. "Just up the stairs to the left," Bill told me, and I started my ascent up the stairs.

The room was all done up in cream and rose, with a flowered, lacy bedspread. From the expression on Bill's face as he stepped in after me, it had been done up by Fleur. "Pink is really your color," I said after a moment, trying for levity in an effort to try and distract him.

He gave me a weak smile. "You can change it if you like. Go on and get settled, Hermione, I've got some tea on downstairs." He disappeared back out the door and I heard the stairs creak as he went back down.

I very efficiently put all of my clothes in the wardrobe before venturing below myself. He was sitting at the kitchen table and when he saw me, he poured a cup of tea for me. I sat down opposite him and doctored the tea, then stared into the swirling brown liquid.

"A bit awkward, isn't it?" he asked.

I looked up and met his blue eyes and we both laughed, the discomfort flooding away. "Little bit. How did she even..." I paused, trying to find the right words. "She told me that you said you were lonely here."

He rolled his eyes. He wouldn't dare do that in front of Molly, but he did it now. "I told Ginny that the house felt a little empty. She told me that you were feeling stifled living with two old people."

I shook my head. "She told me that I was wasting my youth and I needed to get out with other young people."

Bill took a drink of his own tea. "I reckon they just want the house to themselves after all these years."

I nodded, feeling just a little twinge of guilt. I hadn't really considered that before. Bill was nearly halfway through 30, which meant they'd had children under their roof for a good three decades. "They deserve it," I mused, and his earring was set to swinging when he nodded.

"Are you very tidy?" he asked after a moment. "Everything in its proper place and that lot?"

"How did you know?" I teased.

"Just had a feeling." He grinned, just a bit. "I'm not. If the mess starts getting to you, just let me know."

"Or I'll take care of it myself. I'm not a guest here, am I?"

"No, but I hardly think it would be fair if you ended up doing all the cleaning."

* * *

Living with Bill was nice. He was highly intelligent and yet laid-back enough that he didn't get into arguments with me when I got impassioned about certain topics. He was well-mannered and funny and we took to eating breakfast and dinner together as often as we could. We didn't go clubbing, or even go out on Friday nights. It turned out that his big weekend plans usually involved a couch and a book and we would just sit in the living room and read.

And, I had to admit to myself in an indulgently hormonal fashion, it was nice living with an attractive man. I was out of the dating pool. After things had fizzled away with Ron, I'd concentrated on my career and I really just didn't have the time or the inclination to go out and get to know someone and then realize two wasted evenings later that they weren't actually the type of person I wanted to spend any length of time with. Ginny called me picky. I preferred the term, discerning. But, it was nice to come home from work and find Bill relaxing after his own workday in a t-shirt that hugged his upper body. He was thin but toned, and the scars on his face did nothing to detract from how handsome he was. He was definitely easy on the eyes.

We'd been housemates for a couple of months when Harry's birthday rolled around. There was a party at The Burrow, of course, and we flooed out for the occasion. There was a lot of cake and laughter, and late in the evening, I was starting to get sleepy. I asked Ginny if she'd seen Bill and when she shrugged, I decided to head home on my own. It was his house, he knew where it was.

I flooed back home and stepped out of the fireplace, then braced my hand on the mantle to slip my heels off of my aching feet. It was dark, and I pulled out my wand for a light spell.

"You never asked me what happened," came the familiar voice from the shadows. His words came in the carefully picked out slowness of the inebriated.

I stifled a scream into an admittedly undignified squeak. Bill was sprawled out on his couch with a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey beside him that he appeared to be taking straight from the bottle. I cleared my throat and looked down at where he was reclined on the couch, shirt open, one foot on the cushion with his knee up and one foot on the floor. "You scared me half to death!" I exclaimed. When he didn't answer, I cleared my throat again. "I didn't," I replied. "It's none of my business, Bill."

He ignored me, picking up the bottle and staring into it. "I wasn't exciting enough for her. She thought that being married to a curse-breaker would be exciting and glamorous, and the reality of sitting in dusty hotel rooms in the middle of nowhere wasn't quite up to snuff."

I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Bill." That seemed inadequate, but it was the best I could come up with.

He came up off the couch, surprisingly smoothly for someone who'd imbibed half a bottle of firewhiskey. He moved over to me and offered the bottle and, after a moment's hesitation, I took it and had some. I wasn't much of a drinker, not really, but this situation seemed to call for it. "Me too, Hermione," he said, and I could feel his blue eyes on me as I drank.

He took the bottle from my hand and put it on the mantle beside me. "You wouldn't get bored, would you?"

I cleared my throat, desperately trying to ignore the muscled planes of his chest and abdomen. Lately our discussions had seemed to turn into banter that could have been interpreted as flirtatious, but right now he was hurting and it wasn't the time to be lusting after my best friend's older brother. "In a hotel in the middle of nowhere? No, I'd get caught up on some reading."

He took a step toward me and I took a step back. "Going into tombs would be too dirty and too dangerous, then?" Another step and I found myself pressed between the corner of the fireplace and the wall.

"No." I cleared my throat again, trying to keep my voice level. "No, I think it would be quite interesting to see treasures from long ago. I imagine you could learn a lot about-"

He tasted like firewhiskey. His hand was on the wall beside my head and his tongue was plundering my mouth as though he expected to find treasures in it. I pressed my palms flat against the wall behind me, digging my fingers into the wallpaper to keep from throwing myself at Bill's bare chest. This was wrong. This was a bad idea for so many reasons, not the least of which being the effects of the firewhiskey.

I twisted my head to the side to break the kiss and his mouth slipped down to the underside of my jaw. "Bill, we've got to..." the words died in my throat as he nipped at the pulse point at my neck. I inhaled deeply and tried again. "We can't," I moaned when his tongue found my collarbone.

"You want it," he insisted in a low voice as he nudged the collar of my shirt down my shoulder with his nose.

Wasn't that the truth. I slid down the wall, away from his insistent mouth, and slipped out from under his arm. My heart was racing in my ears as I stepped back toward the fireplace. "You're drunk, Bill, and you're in pain, and I just... we can't right now." I didn't stay around to hear what he said, I immediately flooed back to The Burrow.

The party was still going, though mostly winding down. I ignored everyone and slipped up to what had been Percy's room before it had been mine, and laid down, still fully dressed, on the bed I'd slept in when I lived there. Sleep didn't come for a long time.

* * *

I came down for breakfast in the morning. Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table. That didn't surprise me, the last time I'd seen Harry, he'd been splitting a batch of mead with Ron and he was probably still upstairs, sleeping it off.

She looked up at me, not saying anything as I settled myself in the chair across from her. "There's coffee," she offered after a moment. "Did you know you have a mark on your neck?"

My hand flew up as though I could feel it, then I dropped my arms on the table and rested my head on them. "Bill."

"Thought as much. We've all been taking bets; I think... Charlie won. Charlie? Yeah, I think so." She paused for a moment. "Then again, maybe not, if you're here and he's not."

I lifted my head and glared at her and she looked back, nonplussed. "You've been taking bets?"

"Yeah," she replied with a shrug. "We've all seen the way you two look at each other, it was just a matter of time."

I lowered my head again, letting my mass of hair fall around my face. "I left. He was drunk and he still hurts about Fleur and I left."

"Too bad. He's quite good looking, isn't he?" Her tone was innocent, but I knew the question was anything but.

I groaned. "He's your brother." I was not going to have this conversation with her.

"Obviously he's my brother, but he is quite handsome." I didn't answer her. "Come on, Mione, I've seen how you look at him."

"You and the rest of the family, apparently," I said, not bothering to lift my head to talk to her.

"So..." She drew the word out, prodding me.

"Yeah, he is, and if he hadn't been drunk, last night might have gone very differently." She wasn't going to leave me alone until I answered her.

Even without looking at her, I could feeling the smugness. "Thought so. You stay here and have some coffee."

I lifted my head. "Where are you going?"

"Things to do, people to see." She stood and breezed out of the room and I stared after her, narrowing my eyes. What was she up to?

I had a cup of coffee and when I went back into the living room to floo home, The Burrow was strangely quiet. Ginny had gone back upstairs or wherever she was, and even Arthur and Molly were absent. I flooed back home and was greeted with another quiet house. The bottle of firewhiskey was gone from the mantle and there was no trace of Bill. That wasn't strange, he was probably either getting over his hangover or running. He went for a run most mornings before breakfast.

I was just getting out of the shower when I heard yelling from outside. It sounded like Ginny, but I couldn't make out what she was saying. I belted my dressing gown securely around me and hurried down the stairs. I hoped everyone was ok.

"- now you get back in there and fix this!" she shouted and then, just as I pulled open the front door, there was a loud crack as she disapparated.

Bill was standing in the garden in the clothes he wore to go running, looking bemused. He turned toward the house and stopped suddenly when he saw me in the doorway.

"Is everything ok?" I asked worriedly.

He nodded, refusing to meet my eyes as he came back to the house. "She's just..." he trailed off.

I moved out of the way so he could come in. I turned away to go back up the stairs and get dressed, but he caught my arm and I looked back toward him.

"Look, about last night..." he started, his eyes fixed on the bruise on my throat.

"Did... Did Ginny just yell at you about last night?" I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly what Ginny had told him.

"Yes."

"Apparently there's a bet." I trained my eyes on the patch of wallpaper just over his left shoulder. "This is awkward."

"I'm not sorry," he said, and my eyes flew to his, shocked. "I'm not," he repeated as our gazes locked together. "Well, maybe a little bit for that mark." He lifted his free hand and brushed his finger over the love bite he'd given me. "No, not even that." He grinned then, and I had to smile too. "But I am glad you left last night."

I turned my head and made to move away again, but his hand tightened on my arm. "I want you, Hermione." I could hear the naked honesty in his voice. I froze, staring resolutely at a spot on the wall. I was so confused. "But you deserve more than a quick shag up against the wall by a man who's drunk and feeling sorry for himself."

I had no words for that. There weren't many times that I'd been rendered completely speechless, but this was definitely one of them.

"I don't want to jump into anything with you, Hermione. I tried that once and it wasn't..." He trailed off, and turned me to face him. "Let me take you out. We'll go and have dinner and maybe a goodnight kiss and we'll take it slowly. I'll try not to take you up against a wall." Another grin broke over his face. "Well, maybe that last bit, we'll see where the evening takes us."

He was teasing me. I had to smile. "This is what your mum intended when she made me move out here," I observed.

"I reckon so," he said after another moment. "All I know is that you make me smile. I hadn't thought I'd feel like smiling again for a very long time." I suddenly realized that Shell Cottage was just as bright as it had been the last time I'd seen it before I moved in. The lingering sense of heaviness was completely gone.

"But what about-?" I started, thoughts and questions racing through my brain.

"Just say yes." He cut me off with a good-natured sort of impatience.

"Yes."


End file.
